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      ‘I was a child, and I was taken advantage of,’ Helena went on. ‘I did the best I could then, and I’m doing the best I can now. And if that’s not enough for you? It’s your loss, Flynn. Because I didn’t want you as a CEO or as an heir. I wasn’t going to push you aside because I found a better option. I just wanted you. I wanted the future you painted for me in your wedding speech. You talked about how you can’t plan for love or schedule romance—and then you went and tried to do just that. But I didn’t want some spreadsheet setting out when we had sex, or had kids, or when you should buy me flowers. I wanted a real marriage—love. And that’s so much more than anyone else has ever offered you.’

       I just wanted you.

      The words echoed in his brain until he could hear nothing else. Grasping at the arms of his chair, he tried to push himself up, to reach her, reason with her. ‘Helena. I...’

      ‘No.’ She shook her head, blonde waves flying, and he knew again that he loved her. He’d used her lies and the adoption as an excuse to push her away before she could hurt or leave him. When all along she’d offered him everything he’d ever wanted—and never believed he’d deserve. ‘I can’t...’ She bit back a sob and Flynn felt like the worst man who had ever lived. ‘Look, read this. Then we can talk.’ She thrust the stack of papers from his desk into his hands and he stared at it, confused.

      By the time he realised what he held, the door had swung closed and she was gone.

      He wanted to follow, wanted to fix things, but he didn’t know where to start. And Helena had just given him the best clue he was likely to get.

      Their marriage contract, except now it was covered in Helena’s handwriting. The same loopy scrawl he’d seen on the back of that invitation on their wedding day, promising they would figure everything out once they were married.

      Well, now that time was here.

      Pouring himself another whisky, Flynn settled down to read and hoped against hope Helena’s words would tell him how to make this right.

      * * *

      It was five days before the doctors finally agreed with Thomas’s protestations that he was ready to go home.

      Ever since he woke up the first day he’d been demanding to be let out, but Isabella kept telling him, ‘I almost lost you, Thomas! So you are staying here until the doctors say it is time to go home.’ The tone in which she said this ranged from calming to almost hysterical, depending on how belligerent he was being that day.

      Helena had stayed back, letting her mother-in-law deal with him, knowing that she was the only woman he’d listen to anyway. But she’d visited every day and even managed some short civil conversations with her father. Thea’s first visit had elicited rapid beeping on Thomas’s heart monitor as he’d berated her, but Thea had taken everything he’d thrown at her without losing any of the serene calm she’d come to possess since running away with Zeke.

      Then she’d told him in no uncertain terms that she was happy, living her life the way she wanted to, and anyway, had Isabella told Ezekiel she’d left him yet or were they waiting for him to guess?

      That shut him up for almost half an hour.

      But once they were all back living in the Morrison house again, it was harder to ignore the fact that Helena was there and Flynn wasn’t. Or that Isabella wasn’t leaving and no one had spoken to Ezekiel. Helena knew that sooner or later this all had to blow up in their faces, but she was happy to ignore the fact for as long as possible.

      Until, in fact, Isabella decided she wanted to throw a party.

      ‘It can be a welcome home party for Thomas, to celebrate his...well...’

      ‘Survival?’ Zeke suggested when his mother trailed off. ‘Continued health? Heart attack?’

      ‘His life,’ Isabella said firmly. ‘We could make it an engagement party for you and Thea too, perhaps,’ she added with a sideways look at them.

      Thea and Zeke exchanged a glance that only lasted a moment, but appeared to convey a whole conversation.

      ‘Actually,’ Zeke said, ‘it’s a bit late for that.’

      ‘A bit...late?’ Isabella’s eyebrows rose.

      ‘After we left Italy...we took a flight to Vegas,’ Thea explained, and Helena clapped a hand to her mouth to hold in a whoop of laughter.

      ‘Las Vegas,’ Isabella said for clarification, in the tone that Helena imagined she’d probably use to say ‘a brothel’.

      ‘Please tell me you were married by an Elvis impersonator!’ Helena thumped her brother-in-law on the arm. ‘And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me immediately!’

      ‘She nixed the idea of Elvis, unfortunately,’ Zeke said. ‘But yes, we got married.’

      ‘Well.’ Isabella appeared at a loss for words, which Helena thought might be a first. It also didn’t last very long. ‘In that case, we’ll have to make it a rather larger affair. We’ll have it out at the estate, rather than here in town. I’ll go and call the planner right now.’ She started to head for the door, then paused and turned back to face the three of them. ‘I know I...well, I might not have always showed this, but I think you did the right thing. All of you. Sometimes love is bigger than propriety and gossip. And sometimes you don’t know how long you have... Anyway, I would like to celebrate the marriages of my sons.’

      Thea stepped up and kissed Isabella on the cheek. ‘Thank you. That means a lot.’

      ‘When are you going to tell Dad you’re leaving?’ Zeke asked.

      Isabella gave him a sad smile. ‘If he hasn’t noticed that I’ve gone by now, he probably never will. But yes, I have a meeting with him and my solicitor tomorrow. We’ll keep everything civil and low-key. We all owe each other that much.’

      It was hard to imagine, Helena thought, after all these years, that Isabella would officially step into the role and life she’d been living secretly for so long. Maybe it was a good thing, maybe not—but she wouldn’t wish her father on anyone else so maybe it was just inevitable.

      Isabella had always loved Thomas more than her sons, or his daughters. But until now she’d valued her social standing and reputation more than love. That shift alone...could it be the making of a new Isabella?

      ‘Helena,’ Isabella said, breaking her out of her musings. ‘You did the right thing too. It might not feel like it yet, but I believe that it will.’

      Helena tried to smile but the sadness within her wouldn’t let her. Flynn hadn’t called in the days since she’d left him in the library of what was supposed to be their home. The truth hadn’t made a difference in the end. So even if marrying Flynn had been the right thing, for him it was still outweighed by all the wrong things she’d done before.

      And no fancy party was going to change that.

      * * *

      ‘Your mother has left me.’ Ezekiel entered Flynn’s office without knocking and dropped into the visitor’s chair. ‘I just met with her and a divorce solicitor.’

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